Let me state, for the record, that writing is great. I mean it. It’s a wonderful activity, an unparalleled job.
It pays shit.
It’s wall to wall rejection.
It’s unending work.
It’s draining.
It can be drudgery.
It can be thankless.
It can feel like having your chest exposed to swarming hornets.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
What writing has that makes it all worth while, is creation, expression, art. It is the feeling of elation when you channels the muse to the page. It is feeling of having written a phrase, a sentence, a scene that speaks truth. Witty, and wise. Fumbling and fearful.
Feeling the pulse, writing, having written.
They are great things.
Now. Back to work!
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